Rachel Hust

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If “hospitality” was an inkblot in a Rorschach test, my first thoughts would be: Southern, superficial, stilted, and fake. I instinctively think of Southern ladies sitting on their porches, sipping sweet tea and gossiping about everyone in the neighborhood. I think of Hilly Holbrook, Elizabeth Leefolt, and Skeeter from Kathryn Stockett’s The Help playing a game of bridge. I think of Emily Gilmore from Gilmore Girls, entertaining guests with her perfect manners and polite dinner conversation.

Before I went to college that was all I knew of hospitality. To me, its denotation was being a perfect hostess, setting an extravagant table, and striving to impress all of the guests. And its connotation was very negative. Then I went to college and learned how wrong I was.

It is freshman move-in day and you have exchanged emails with your new roommate, but you have never met her in person. A trail of balloons and posters lead you to the check-in table where you sign by your name and are handed the key to your room. You take a deep breath, grab the first load of boxes from your car, and head toward your room: it is time to meet the person you are going to be living with for the next year.

The door is unlocked and your roommate is already inside, unpacking with her family. You say hello and all of the various family members exchange greetings. Next, a flurry of handshakes and the usual “Nice to meet you,” “How are you?” and

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